Blue Moon
by ChrissiHR
Summary: *Historical romance, my only imprint story!* AU: Star-crossed teens in love, kept apart by well-meaning fathers, reunite at long last, reaffirming their dedication and willingness to risk it all for love despite interventions by the Spirits that can't solve all of their earthly and very human problems. Begins with 1st Place Tricky Raven V-Day O/S, "Daddy's Girl No More".


**A/N: **_This first chapter was my winning entry, "Daddy's Girl No More" for Tricky Raven's anonymous 2014 Valentine's Day contest, Book of Love. It appears in my short story omnibus, Every Dog Has Its Day. Note that the pairing, rating, and genre will differ for the second chapter.  
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_Thanks to **Dontcallmeleelee** for the amazing banner manip. She did it months ago for me and I've been holding onto it to post until Chapter 2 came to me and refused to leave me alone until it was written. Didn't she do a beautiful job on Greaser Jake? He's hot! Blue Moon Bella is quite the babe herself. ;)_

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**Chapter 1**: Daddy's Girl No More

**Chapter Pairing**: Michael Newton/Bella Swan/Jacob Black

**Chapter Rating**: T/PG-13

**Genre**: Historical Romance/Angst

**Prompt**: "My Boyfriend's Back" by The Angels (and a little of "I Will Follow Him" by Little Peggy March)

* * *

_He's been gone for such a long time, _

_Hey-la-day-la my boyfriend's back!_

_Now he's back and things'll be fine, _

_Hey-la-day-la my boyfriend's back!_

_You're gonna be sorry you were ever born, _

_Hey-la-day-la my boyfriend's back!_

_Cause he's kinda big and he's awful strong,_

_Hey-la-day-la my boyfriend's back!_

~"My Boyfriend's Back" by The Angels~

* * *

**Chapter 1: Daddy's Girl No More**

Bella finished straightening her ponytail and ran her hands down the front of her teal blue boatneck sweater. She'd paired it with a teal and grey-striped circle skirt for the Dip and Dance Michael was taking her to at the school that night. It had been so long since she'd seen her boyfriend. She hoped he liked this shade of blue on her. He'd always loved her in blue.

She tapped her foot to the melodious voice of Bobby Darin on the radio crooning one of her favorites, "Beyond the Sea". She was tempted to sing along. Knowing she'd be seeing her sweetheart soon made her heart feel light, but she was nervous about the evening and whether the two of them could pull this off. She couldn't bear to separated from him any longer and she knew the suffering for him was twice as terrible, compounded by worry such as it was.

Her father had the best of intentions, she knew, but he'd gone about this all the wrong way. Now, he was escalating the situation by forcing her to spend time with that handsy jerk, Michael Newton, on top of everything else. Charlie thought so highly of the Newtons, with Mr. Newton owning one of the most prosperous businesses in town and Mrs. Newton, that gossipy old hag, on every committee, club, and ladies auxiliary in the county.

Her father craved that kind of normalcy for her own sake, but they would never be the Newtons. They were just them, the Swans, just the two of them since Bella was a baby and her mother had taken off with her younger lover, that no-account Phil Dwyer. 'A baseball player!' Charlie had railed. He'd sworn he'd never listen to another game on the radio, but Bella caught him at it sometimes anyway.

Now he was foisting her off on that no-good Newton boy all the time and it made Bella seethe. She knew what he was doing. He was trying to make her forget her love, her sweetheart; pushing her at Michael constantly, hoping she'd see something in the boy he'd chosen for her—the one he found _respectable_. Well, it would never happen. She would make certain of that.

She took a bracing breath and reminded herself that Michael was her ticket out of this house and out from under the ever watchful eyes of her father. Whatever it took to be with her sweetheart, she would do. She turned around and looked over the items stacked in neat piles on her bed. She was only taking a week's worth of basics for now. She needed to travel light. It was going to be difficult as it was trying to get the overlarge satchel out of the house past her father. In truth, if she were just going to the Dip and Dance, she wouldn't need more than what she was wearing and a swimsuit with a towel in a beach tote if she and Michael decided to take a dip in the school pool with some of the others during the dance to cool off.

Bella had no intention of wasting precious space on a swimsuit, though. She packed sturdy, serviceable clothes and shoes and one good dress. If everything went according to plan, she would probably need that dress sooner rather than later. A small smile played at the corners of her mouth at the thought of the occasion for which she intended the pretty robin's egg blue dress. She shook her head and reminded herself this was no time for wool-gathering. She needed her wits about her if she was to get through the night.

She finished packing the small satchel, arranging things so it looked like she just had a jacket on top of her swimming things in the bag in case she got chilly later.

Bag packed, she looked around her room, wondering if there was anything else she should take just in case she couldn't return for a long while. There were two small, silver-framed photos on her nightstand that caught her eye; one of she and her father at her Sweet Sixteen party, and one of she and her sweetheart, playing together on First Beach when they were little. Her mother had taken that picture. She kept it turned away from the door, so her father wouldn't notice it and take it away. She snatched it off the table and tucked it safely into her bag between two blouses.

She heard the sound of Michael's noisy second-hand convertible rumble up the street towards her house and rolled her eyes.

Honestly, who drives a convertible in Washington where it rains 350 days a year? That boy didn't have the sense of a peahen.

Still, he was providing an excellent ruse to cover her escape. She had to be grateful for that.

She snatched up the sheer pewter grey scarf on her dressing table and tied it around the base of her ponytail to keep the short ends from coming loose later during her getaway.

At the brisk knock on the front door, she squared her shoulders, assuming a false, but bright smile and went to meet her destiny.

* * *

Charlie and Michael were chatting amiably in the living room when she descended the stairs carefully in her well-loved black and white saddle shoes. As a born-clumsy girl, Bella knew well she must take her time tonight or risk ruining her plans if she became injured before _He_ arrived.

Her father looked on with pride, complimenting her smoothly, "You look lovely, tonight, Bella Marie, a real credit to your Grandmother Swan."

"Thank you, Daddy," she replied with forced cheerfulness and a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

Thankfully, Charlie wasn't the type to look much below the surface unless he had a good reason to. He may have been the Chief of Police, but he tended to trust a bit too easily, a trait that frequently came back to haunt him—Bella's mother being the best case in point.

Michael was all but bouncing in place, an eager golden retriever barely held back by his collar, just waiting his turn to slobber all over her, "Evening, Bella! All ready to go then?" He pointed to her bag and Charlie looked at it suspiciously.

Michael caught his look and saved her from having to stutter through a lie, "Never worry, Chief Swan! I'll keep a keen eye on her tonight in the pool. No mishaps, I promise!"

"Pool?" Charlie asked.

Bella dropped her eyes demurely and offered the simplest explanation she could that wouldn't force her to tell an outright lie to her father, "It's a Dip and Dance, Daddy. I can change when I get there. I have a jacket for later as well, in case I'm a bit damp when we head out after." She failed to mention which _we_ she was referring to, but otherwise, she thought she did a bang up job of not actually lying.

Charlie's mustache twitched slightly, as if he were annoyed that she'd failed to mention she was going out in a bathing suit that barely covered more than her underthings, but, in the end, he let it go for fear of being the only father in town who hadn't let his daughter go to the Dip and Dance. Surely if the school was sponsoring it, it must be on the up and up, plenty of chaperones and all, so he relented, "Very well. Be sure to have her home no later than ten o'clock, Michael."

Michael's face blanched, "Umm, but sir, there's going to be a bonfire after. Some of us were going to go down to First Beach-"

"No! I don't want my Bella anywhere near La Push. You hear me, boy?"

Michael gulped and tried to swallow past the terror that had lodged in his throat, "Y-y-yes, s-sir! We'll come straight home, right after the dance."

"See that you do," he said, then called out to her, holding an arm out, "Bella?"

She knew what was expected of her, even if it was just for show for Michael's sake. (The Newtons were all terrible gossips.) She moved under her father's arm and wrapped her hands lightly around his waist, giving him what she knew could be the very last hug they ever shared. She tried to mean it, but she felt hollow inside—worried for her sweetheart, worried about the perilous situation she now found herself in. She desperately wanted to love her father like she once had, but his attitude about the current state of affairs had become untenable and he'd forced her to choose.

Choose, she had. Her boyfriend was coming back for her. She would follow him to the ends of the earth if that was what he asked.

* * *

Bella thought she would go mad if she had to slap Michael Newton's hands away from her rear one more time before the night was over. They'd been at the dance for more than an hour and her sweetheart was nowhere to be seen. She was beginning to worry, but she couldn't let her guard down or become lax or less vigilant about keeping Michael at bay. She suspected someone had spiked the punch. He was more determined than ever to grab her wherever he could. She swore he'd grown six spare arms in the hour and a half since he picked her up at home, all of them intent on one goal—grabbing her derriere.

She kept him firmly at arms' length to avoid his slobbering mouth, but she couldn't do much about his wandering hands without letting go, which would only give him room to get closer. She wriggled uncomfortably away from one wandering hand, barking a sharp reprimand that had little effect.

She was getting desperate, almost on the verge of slapping the groping lecher when she felt a familiar searing warmth next to her hand on Michael's shoulder. She peered around his big, bucket-head into the amused and somehow equally annoyed eyes of Leah Clearwater.

"Oh, thank goodness," she whispered, her shoulders sagging in relief.

Leah smirked and asked in a put-on simpering voice for Michael's benefit, "May I cut in?"

Bella nodded enthusiastically, stepping back to allow the black-clad, native bombshell to take her place. Leah was stunning in the raven's black—an off-the shoulder sweater that was tighter than anything Bella had ever dared to wear in public _or_ private, a slim, satin pencil skirt that hugged her generous curves, and a pair of skyscraper black heels in shiny patent leather. Her hair was pinned with a red silk flower and swept up in a sleek coiffure that bared much of her exquisite caramel shoulders and invited men to their doom.

Leah leaned in close for Bella's sake and whispered, "Rear hallway, by the door to the girls' locker room. Go _directly_ through the girls' locker room. I just checked it and it's clear. He will be waiting for you at the far door. Don't slow down and don't let anyone waylay you. Go." She gave her a firm shove in the direction of the locker room door on the gym side.

"Thank you, Leah," she breathed.

Bella wasted no time, scurrying off the dance floor, avoiding the calls from her friends, asking what was her hurry. She ducked into the locker room, hustling to the far end. She looked over her shoulder to make sure she wasn't being followed and ran hard into something pillowy soft and perfumed for her trouble anyway.

"Oof!"

"Ugh! What is your _problem_, Swan?! Watch where you're going!" Lauren huffed indignantly, straightening her too-tight blouse.

Jessica stood at her side, arms crossed over her chest, nodding her head in agreement, her ponytail bobbing crazily, sending the tails of her scarf swaying wildly, "Yeah, _Swan_. What? You decided you're so clumsy you can't even be bothered to _look_ where you're walking anymore? It's just inevitable that you'll fall on your face no matter what, I suppose. Who cares who you take down with you?"

"Oh, for pete's sake! It was an accident. I'm terribly sorry. Didn't mean it," Bella snapped in a mocking voice. "Please excuse me. I have someone else I need to hurry off and _maim_ with malicious intent."

Lauren and Jessica were shocked speechless by the dripping sarcasm in Bella's tone. Neither had ever heard her speak so sharply to a classmate, much less stand up for herself. They stepped aside under the threat of her lethal gaze.

Bella rushed past them to the rear locker room door, pushing it open carefully and looking about for her savior. The hallway was dark and she cringed back, unsure whether to proceed.

Just as she took a cautious step in retreat, two large hands reached out from the darkness to her left.

Two blazing hot hands.

She sighed in relief, finally able to really breathe for the first time in days.

"Jacob," she whispered, leaning into the reassuring succor of his embrace. The soft leather of his jacket and the comfortably-worn cotton of his black T-shirt made her feel like she'd finally come _home_. "Thank goodness. I was so worried."

"So was I, honey," he murmured, tightening his hold, brushing his lips across her temple as he ran soothing hands up and down her back. She was trembling and he was upset that he hadn't been there every moment that she'd needed him. He felt it, through the imprint bond. His father, also imprinted, had tried to warn him how hard any kind of separation could be. He finally understood what was really at stake.

He lowered his head to her shoulder and felt bare skin. Opening his eyes, he took in her ensemble, his hungry gaze lingering momentarily on the pronounced curves beneath her thin sweater, "You look beautiful, as always, Bells. You know how I love it when you wear blue. It makes you look even more fair—if that's possible."

"I wore it for you," she breathed, standing on her tip-toes to brush her petal-soft lips over his. She brought a tiny, fluttering hand up self-consciously to pluck at the wide neckline of her sweater, feeling warm and a little wild this close to her Jacob. The sweater bared her neck and throat almost to the curve of each shoulder. It really was quite daring for her.

"I can tell. You know what it does to me—the sight of your beautiful neck and shoulders. The wolf, too," he growled, nipping at the long ivory column of her throat.

She tipped her head in submission, allowing him another moment as she whimpered, "Your wolf, too?"

"Always, my Bells. The wolf loves every part of you, but especially…" his fingers traversed the bared expanse of smooth, pale flesh above her sweater, caressing her delicate collar bones with his heated fingertips, raising goosebumps that raced across her shoulders, "...your beautiful, kissable throat." His hot breath billowed over her chilled skin as he pressed his plump, dusky lips to her pulse there.

She shivered in anticipation.

"It's not safe here, Bells. Too many people," he reminded her in a murmur, his hot breath tickling her ear as he scanned the hallway and the locker room beyond, his eyes never ceasing their search for the evil that lurked in dark corners and down shadowy hallways.

"How- how do you know it's not safe?" she stuttered uncertainly, her ardor cooling as she clutched him tighter and tucked her head into his warm, solid chest.

"The young girl, Claire, the one Quil imprinted on from the Makah rez? Her parents were found dead earlier today. Claire was out with Emily and didn't return before they were found by a neighbor, thank the spirits. We think the coven has found our weakness. We think they're going after the imprints. Bella… " his voice trailed off and he pulled her back, biting his lip and looking at her hesitantly. "You're not safe here. I did what I had to do. I'm sorry it took me so long. You were being watched the entire time, I swear, but I had to wait for official approval from council. Even though you're an imprint and eighteen, I'm only sixteen. I had to be sure your place on the rez was secured. They said it _would_ be if-"

He stopped, his arms tightening unconsciously around her.

"If…?" she looked at him expectantly.

He pressed a kiss to her forehead and reached into his pocket, pulling out something small that fit in the palm of his hand—a tiny black box. "...if you agree to marry me—in a Quileute unity ceremony. We can do the legal deal later, but you have to marry me to reside on the rez." He cleared his throat, "Tonight."

"Oh … Jacob." Her eyes shined with unshed tears as she realized she _would_ get to wear that pretty dress she packed sooner rather than later.

"You don't mind?" Jacob's eyes paced back and forth, watching carefully for her answer first in her beautiful cinnamon eyes, where she couldn't hide the truth of it.

"Mind?" a watery chuckle escaped as she smiled. "No, I don't mind. I'd been hoping… You still haven't asked me, though."

"I will when we get home. I want to do it on tribal land, Bells. Is that okay?"

She understood. The land was important, not just to Jacob's people, but to his family. She knew just where she would have him ask, too, "On the beach, that driftwood log? The one where you kissed me the first time?"

"You read my mind." His grin stretched across his face, ear to ear.

"Hardly, it's just where I'd want you to ask me, too. I love you, you know," she said, nuzzling his throat with her cold little nose. Then, in a whisper, "Take me home, Jacob. Please, take me home."

He couldn't resist such a pretty plea if he wanted to. He whispered in a choked voice, "I love you, too." He pressed his lips to hers tenderly, catching her bottom lip between his in a little nibble from his wolf as well.

"First, I'd like you to- to put the ring on. I'll ask you properly later. I just need to see my mother's ring on you, my mark. You understand?"

_His mother's ring, his mark…_ she thought wonderingly as she nodded and held out her hand, trembling a little as he slipped it over her finger.

"Perfect, like it was made for you." He kissed her knuckle above the ring as she sniffled happily, then asked, "You have a bag?"

He looked her over carefully, wondering if she would be able to ride his bike in that skirt. The only other time she'd been on it, she'd worn an old pair of bib dungarees that she kept at his house to wear when she was working in the shop with him. She'd have to ride in front of him this time, he decided, to keep her skirts out of the rear wheel, and she'd wear his leather jacket for extra protection.

"Yes. This Dip and Dance was especially serendipitous. My father didn't bat an eyelash when I left the house with a bag full of clothes—just a week's worth of the necessities for now. Enough to get by until we can come back for more or I can make some. That's fine, though. I don't need much. I left my bag in the front seat of Michael's car on the floor and left the door unlocked so I could retrieve it easily later."

"We've already taken too long. Leah will only be able to distract Newt for so long."

"Newton," she corrected him absently, running her hands up his firm biceps.

"I _know_ his name, Bells," he rolled his eyes and she smiled. She'd missed his unexpected sense of humor.

He pulled her by the hand down the rear corridor behind the gym toward the side doors, easily avoiding the revelers and a few indistinguishable couples snuggling in dim corners.

"Which one?" he asked when they reached the parking lot.

"The ivory convertible," she pointed it out.

"In Washington?" he snorted in derision, shaking his head in disgust.

"Don't get me started. He's positively ridiculous. It's a good thing I love you. I had to ride here in that- that _thing_**and** I had to fend off his eight wandering tentacles until Leah rescued me. I'll be glad to see the last of Michael Newton," she said as they hurried across the lot. She opened the front passenger door with a quiet snick of the latch and grabbed her bag, handing it off to Embry as he and Quil rolled up silently on a second motorcycle in neutral to keep their departure a secret until the very last second. Embry stashed her bag in the cobbled-together sidecar as Quil hopped out quietly on sneakered feet, his five-and-dime basketball shoes making no noise at all as he ran out back to retrieve Jacob's bike from the rear of the building where he'd coasted in earlier and parked.

Quil reappeared moments later, throwing down the kickstand and climbing off, handing the bike off to Jake, "Ready to go when you are, Boss."

Jake put one black-booted foot on the peg and held out a hand to Bella-

"Not so fast, boys," an authoritarian voice boomed.

The three boys turned their heads as one, their innate pack behavior more difficult to hide from humans when they perceived a threat to an imprint. Bella cringed. She knew the owner of that voice without looking and knew, also, that there was no way this could end well … for her father.

"Just where in Sam Hill do you think you're taking my daughter, Black?" Charlie asked as he hitched up his uniform pants, wiggling his holster a bit threateningly to terrify and intimidate. Too bad for him, werewolves weren't easily intimidated.

"Home, with me," Jacob answered, wrapping an arm around Bella protectively.

"If you think I'm just going to let you take off with daughter, boy, you have another think coming!" Charlie blustered.

"Daddy… " Bella tried to warn him off.

"Don't you '_Daddy'_ me you sneaky little tramp! You're no better than your no-good mother!"

Bella's gasp silenced him as she squared off, stomping her dainty little foot in outrage, "_Tramp?!_ Is _that_ what you think of me? I am _not_ Mama, Daddy! _You_ drove me to this!"

His eyes burned in righteous indignation and he clenched his fists, refusing to take the blame for trying to protect her, to try to keep history from repeating itself.

"And yet, here you are anyway," he jabbed a finger in her direction, "just like her, sneaking off like a thief in the night with some, some-" he waved a hand in the air in wild circles, trying to come up with a word to encompass everything he despised and feared about Jacob Black.

"What, Daddy? What is he that's so terrible?" she demanded, her voice hitching as she choked back her tears.

"You have no idea what you're getting yourself into here Bella-"

Jacob was seething. "You and I both know that kid was dead long before I ever got near him, thanks to another kind of monster altogether. All I did was keep the demon that possessed his bloodless corpse from mutilating and killing more helpless kids," Jacob hissed low, but plenty loud enough for Charlie's human ears.

"Yeah? Well, from now on you just, just … keep it on the rez, like you're supposed to!" Charlie shouted, angered that Bella wasn't surprised by the boy's revelation and realizing that she must have known all along just what these _boys_ really were under the light of the full moon.

"Yeah? And if I do? You gonna kill the next one by yourself, _Chief_? If that's your plan, you might as well say goodbye to Bells one last time, right here and now."

"She's not going with you!" Charlie's face purpled with rage, knowing what it would mean if she left. The same had happened to his Aunt Molly when Charlie was a boy—just went out to La Push one weekend for a clam dig on the beach and never came home. The family never once spoke of her again after that, but Charlie knew. The one boy standing with Jacob—young Quil—was Charlie's own second cousin.

"Well, she can't stay _here_. _You_ can't protect her. She'd be dead within the week, and the pack would fold under the devastation of their Alpha's lost mate. This is how it _has_ to be," Jacob stated with finality.

"She's meant for better-"

"Daddy!" Bella spoke sharply. "How _dare_ you?! You don't get to decide what's best for me! Don't you do this. Don't you make me choose, because it'll be him. It's always been him. I will follow him to the ends of the earth, Daddy. This is meant to be. The spirits _chose_ me for him. He is my destiny." She wrapped her arms around Jacob, murmuring quietly, "We should go. It's not any safer here than it was earlier, inside. You can lock down the rez. Forks is little better than a hunting ground for those demons now."

"Alpha's mate," Jacob muttered the words with a hint of pride, but so quietly against her temple, she could hardly make them out. She smiled, realizing what he meant by his proud words—she was already putting her tribe's needs first, and thereby, her mate's.

Charlie listened to the cryptic and very grown up exchange between his daughter and the b- _man_ in whose arms she stood for protection. His shoulders sagged in defeat.

Jacob took that as a sign that it was time to go. He lifted Bella up onto the seat of the bike, shielding her from view as she neatly rearranged her skirts to conceal her legs. He took off his jacket and draped it over her shoulders. She slid her arms into the sleeves as Jacob swung a leg over the seat behind her. He tucked the trailing hem of her skirts in under his legs, tugging her backwards to fit neatly against his chest, within the sheltering circle of his arms.

"I've got you, but hold on tight, okay?" he warned her, placing her hands inside his on the handlebars.

Charlie moved, making one last-ditch effort to stop them, but Quil barred his way, his big, beefy arms held wide to warn him off, "Chief… _cousin_. Don't do this. You'll drive her away forever."

Jacob kick-started the bike, Embry doing the same as Quil retreated and slid into the sidecar, tucking Bella's bag between his feet securely.

"Jacob!" Charlie shouted desperately over the roar of the bikes.

Jacob ticked up one eyebrow and jerked his chin in response.

"You take care of my girl, you hear?!"

"I always do!" he yelled back, "but she's not _your_ girl anymore!" He clasped Bella's hand in his, raising it to show Charlie his mother's ring on her third finger. "She's mine now!"

Bella blushed to the roots of her hair as Embry and Quil hooted and hollered their congratulations.

Charlie's eyes widened in regret and he heaved a mournful sob as he watched Jacob Black ride off down Main Street with his baby girl, cocooned in the strong, capable arms of her sweetheart, the Alpha of La Push.

* * *

_I'm hoping you guys are still interested enough in this little fic to read the follow-up I'm working on! _

_Let me know what you thought in the comments. Thanks for reading!_


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